Missing Pieces
by Mia-Kassia-James
Summary: Aftermath of the Battle. Sweet coupling. Awesome writing...


'I've had enough trouble to last a lifetime,' Harry declares, and there was the faintest hint of a smile around his lips.

Hermione smiled, too. The past seven years of her life had brought her more trouble than she could've ever imagined – magic or no magic. 'I'll tell you one thing, defeating seriously Dark wizards gives you quite an appetite.'

Ron's stomach grumbled as she spoke; only making her point stronger. Harry laughed, and put his arms around his friends.

Hermione smiled; hearing Harry finally laugh, after all this time, was something that she found herself treasuring. 'There's someone I need to find first.' He left the room, whistling as he went.

Hermione cautiously approached Dumbledore's portrait. 'He won't be happy like this for long, will he?' She asked, watching the great man with half-moon spectacles.

Dumbledore shook his head. 'But you have fought with all you have – as has he, and there's nothing to regret.'

Hermione found herself disagreeing with Dumbledore's words. 'There's more than our share of regrets,' Hermione said, 'no matter which angle you approach it from.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'But other people's sacrifices are their own, and not his.'

'You and I both know that he won't see it that way.' Hermione muttered, not sure if the portrait could hear her.'

'Hermione,' Ron mumbled, stepping closer, 'we should be getting on, finding Harry, that sort of thing.'

Hermione waved her hand away impatiently. 'Wait, Ron, there's something I need to ask.'

Ron held onto her shoulder. 'We have plenty of time later. But not right now.'

Hermione shook his hand off, 'Professor,' she began, before they were interrupted. The door behind them opened, quietly, sliding along the carpet with a whisper of movement. Hermione turned, and found herself facing Professor McGonagall, who certainly looked worse for wear.

While everyone was covered in ash and blood, their hair tangled tumbleweeds; the deterioration of their Head of House seemed more significant. Something bad had taken place, and someone bad had threatened their school.

McGonagall softened her harsh expression into a half-smile when she saw Ron and Hermione. She looked over their shoulder at Dumbledore. 'You're being looked for,' she told the younger adults, motioning for them to leave.

Hermione and Ron hastened to leave. Hermione glanced back at the last second, and saw McGonagall's fingertips on the edge of Dumbledore's gilted frame. What she was thinking was impossible, knowing what she did about Dumbledore, but the possibility of McGonagall seeking help and becoming the role model she saw in Dumbledore made her wonder if the two were simply Professors. As Deputy, McGonagall had to have a stronger connection with the Headmaster than other teachers.

Ron took Hermione's hand and began to pull her along, because, although her mind was whirring, her steps were slow.

They reached the bottom of the marble staircase and looked around them selves.

They were both silent for some time. 'It's unrecognizable,' Hermione voiced. 'This isn't our school, is it?'

Ron put an arm around her shoulders. She leant her head into him. She took a deep, shaky breath and pulled away. 'Right.' Hermione said, 'the Great Hall.'

As they walked, they took in the scene surrounding them. 'It's terrible,' Ron commented at one point, drawing her eyes to him.

She was silent for the smallest moment. 'You've got dirt on your nose,' she whispered, 'right there.' She put her thumb on his face and wiped at his nose, slowly removing the dirt.

Ron grinned and held onto her elbows. 'So do you,' he muttered.

Hermione bent her head forward and escaped his piercing stare. She couldn't help the smile that crept onto her face. She bit her lip and looked away from him, forcibly removing his hands from her by backing away.

She continued forward, reaching the Great Hall eventually. The scene that she entered was absolutely horrific. Bodies of the fallen lay everywhere, blood and ash, dirt and grime completely covering each and every person the Hall contained.

Hermione heard Ron gasp involuntarily, and she put her hand on his shoulder. She couldn't restrain him, however, when he ran to his family, leaving her stranded. She looked around for Harry, planning on telling him how well he'd done against Tom Riddle. She found him, standing by Ron's family. She presumed that he'd found who he'd been looking for.

His arms were wrapped around Ginny. She could tell from here that neither of them were hardly breathing, that they were almost delirious with the joy of finding the other perfectly okay.

She approached them slowly, wondering how she'd thought that Harry didn't care for Ginny as much as Ginny for him.

As she got nearer, she could see the tears in Harry's eyes, threatening to fall. She slowed her steps even more, trying to be a little louder. 'Hey,' she said as she drew nearer.

They pulled away, looking a little guilty. 'Hey Hermione,' Ginny murmured, stepping even further back.

Harry stepped forward when she stepped back, not allowing her to distance herself. Hermione looked at her feet, then back up when she saw she was standing on the outskirts of a pool of blood. 'Did you find what you were looking for?' Hermione asked him, eyes flickering to Ginny.

Harry nodded. 'Thank Merlin.'

Hermione smiled. They lapsed into silence. 'I wonder what will happen now,' Ginny murmured, gesturing around them.

'Someone's got to clean it, I suppose.' Ron said, drawing closer as he spoke. This time, Harry let Ginny step away from him.

Hermione felt Ron's arm snake around her waist. 'Fred's… dead,' he whispered into her ear. 'And Percy's back. For good, apparently.'

'Don't go near Mum for a while,' Ginny added. 'This is worse than he left. She'll carry on for weeks.' Suddenly, she reached out,, as if to grab Ron. 'You'll never guess what Mum did,' she said, her voice peaking in excitement. Then she looked around her and the smile dropped off.

'What?' Ron asked, obviously curious.

Ginny frowned slightly, touching her matted red hair absently. 'Don't worry,' she said, shaking her head.

'No, tell me,' Ron said, trying to over power his little sister once more.

Ginny shook her head. 'No, Ronald. I can't tell you, not here. It doesn't feel right.'

Harry was looking at her oddly. 'I was under the Cloak, you know,' he said softly, 'when I saw it. I was going to throw that Cloak off and take her myself, when your Mum stepped in. I wasn't needed.' They both blushed, and Hermione wondered what they were talking about.

There was a scuffling of footsteps behind her, and Hermione turned to face the new comer. With a face so stricken it likened to death, George stood silently beside them. He didn't make eye contact, he didn't talk – he simply tried to look like he was involved in life.

It was clear that he was involved in a whole lot of death.

There was a hushed silence that fell over them.

Ron was the one to break it. 'This place will take a lot of cleaning up,' he finally said, a terrible attempt at breaking the ice that had quickly frozen over them all.

'Most of it will take Muggle methods,' Hermione told them, 'as you can't fix what curses have destroyed.'

They all look up at George – and his missing ear – and quickly avert their gazes again.

'Look, there's Luna,' Ginny says, leaving them presently. 'Luna!' She called to the blonde waif.

Hermione turned to her two best friends. 'So, how boring are our lives gonna be now?' Ron joked, breaking the ice yet again.

Harry smiled, watching Ginny's back. 'I'm sure we'll find a way to get into trouble. Or trouble will find _us,_ more accurately.'

Hermione put her hand over Ron's, which was still on her hip. 'We will find our way in life. I'm sure that's bound to be enough trouble.'

The boys smiled at her, and George left them. He sat on an empty bench and let the world continue without him.

Luna tripped over to them. 'Hi, Harry,' she said, her voice already vague. She sported a large cut to her forehead. It wasn't bleeding, but magic hadn't healed it.

'Luna,' Harry acknowledged her, but was then lost again as Ginny approached and took his hand in hers.

Luna looked up at the ceiling. It was no longer enchanted. The enchantment must have been broken by a rebounding curse. Luna smiled to herself, but didn't speak.

Ron looked at her, clearly expecting an outburst about some new, ridiculous creature.

'I guess,' Luna began, causing Ron to roll his eyes and Ginny to lean closer, 'That Fudge was right to be scared of Dumbledore,' she looked around at them, grey eyes wide. 'Our army put up a decent fight.'

'Dumbledore's Army,' Ginny murmured. 'Without it, we wouldn't be here.'

Hermione smiled. 'It was one of my better organisations.' She said softly, thinking back to her S.P.E.W days.

'It was Harry's organisation.' Luna said simply, walking away.

'She's never been able to tolerate me,' Hermione said, shaking her head.

'I've never been able to stomach her,' Ron said in a low voice, almost menacing.

'Really?' Hermione teased. 'Ron? Not able to stomach something? There must be a first for everything!' They smiled softly at one another, and looked away, both blushing a bright red. Hermione pulled away from his embrace.

Hermione realised that Harry wasn't participating much in their conversations, but she decided that it was okay. After everything he'd just done, Hermione reasoned, a little private time in your own head would be well-deserved.

Hermione pivoted to watch the rest of the Weasley family. Like George, they weren't saying much, just kneeling over Fred's body with dumbfounded expressions, groping at his clothes like he'd wake up if they did.

Harry followed Hermione's eyes. 'What about Teddy?' He asked her, and his voice was quite hoarse.

Teddy Lupin, Remus' child. Harry's godson. 'Well, he's all Andromeda's got, isn't he?' She reached forward and put a hand on his arm, watching Ginny step further away from Harry out the corner of her eye. 'I think that we should let everything settle before you go barging off.'

'But Hermione, how many people are left homeless and parentless because of what we've done?' Harry's eyes were bright and agitated, a little tight around the edges.

'You're not the one to blame. We haven't _done_ any of this. You can't be everyone's father, Harry.'

Harry didn't look convinced.

'Look. This war wasn't about you. You might be The Chosen One and all, but to us, this was about trying to keep our world at peace.' Hermione turned with that, and walked away. She planned on going to the toilet, but she was intercepted by a breathless Ginny.

'Can…? That was harsh. You just jumped down his throat and devoured his heart.' She had a slight smile on her face though.

'You know how he tends to be, thinking it's all about him.' Hermione rolled her eyes and grinned, knowing that Ginny knew exactly what she was referring to.

'He feels responsible, I guess. I would, too. If I hadn't died and the world's most evil wizard came back and tried to murder everyone I loved jut because he couldn't murder me as a baby, I think I'd feel pretty responsible for anyone who got injured at all in my life.' Ginny put her hand over her mouth like she'd said too much. There was a pause, and they passed through the once-doors of the Great Hall. 'Who _do_ you think will clean this up?'

Hermione surveyed the debris and devastation that her school. 'No doubt they'll open a committee, with operation 'Clean Up Hogwarts'.'

Ginny trailed her fingers over the golden frames that the doors used to sit on. 'Do you think my mum will join?'

Hermione looked over her shoulder at Mrs. Weasley. 'I don't know. She's never lost a child before. She might take it harder than even she thinks.'

'She's come close many times, though.' Ginny murmured. Ginny, lost in the Chamber, her soul possessed by Riddle's Horcrux. Ron, poisoned by the mead meant for Dumbledore. Ron, fighting in the Chamber, Ron fighting for the Stone, Ron trying to save his rat, Ron and Ginny, risking their lives in the Ministry when their father could not. Ron and Ginny, fighting against the forces that tried, and failed, to penetrate and ruin their school. Ron and Ginny, Fred and George, Bill and Charlie, and even Percy, fighting against the most evil group of witches and wizards that ever lived – Death Eaters.

Hermione paused, before saying, 'well, yeah, but this time it's real. Your brother's really dead, Ginny. He's not coming back.'

Hermione watched Ginny's shoulders slump. 'He could,' Ginny murmured, clearly not intending Hermione to hear.

'He's not,' Hermione whispered, taking a step back – keeping space between them lest Ginny should fly into one of her scarlet rages – 'Like we tried to tell Harry about Sirius, he's never coming back.' Hermione turned, intending to leave Ginny and the conversation behind.

'You bitch!' Ginny suddenly screamed, pouncing on Hermione.

Hermione could not have anticipated it if she tried. Her back had been turned, and she was defenceless against Ginny's fingernails. She was almost petrified with shock as Ginny relentlessly thrashed at her, screaming profanities no doubt learnt from her now-deceased brother. 'You horrible cow,' Ginny was crying, 'You have no right to talk like that! None at all, you, you _witch_!' Hermione put her hands up to cover her face, wondering what she'd said to make Ginny snap. Hermione knew that Ginny did not mean the literal meaning of the word 'witch', but the sarcastic, spiteful meaning.

Hermione felt Ginny's tears slip off the younger redhead's chin and onto her own face and fingers. She felt the pressure of Ginny's knees in her ribs be released as Ginny was lifted off of her, still thrashing, but Ron and Harry. They dragged her over debris and around the corner. Ginny's yells turned to whimpers, her whimpers into whispers of harsh profanities. No doubt she'd stopped crying already and was rearing to rip Hermione to pieces with dry eyes.

Ron came back around and offered his hand to her. Hermione sheepishly took it and stood. 'Are you okay?' Ron asked, not letting go of her hand.

Hermione nodded, 'I hit my head on the way down,' she said, probing the now-tender spot with two fingers.

'Your face is pretty scratched up,' Ron commented.

Hermione shrugged. 'I guess that's what you get when you upset Ginny Weasley,' she joked, fingering her face with her free hand. There were a few cuts and indents, but from what she could feel, only two scratches were actually bleeding – and one wasn't even Ginny at all. 'She didn't do much harm, though.'

Ron smiled, 'Wait until tomorrow; you'll be black and blue from the waist up.' He spoke like he had experience in the matter, which didn't surprise Hermione much at all. It's not that Ginny was spoilt; she knew just how hard her father had to work to give them what little they had, but she generally got people to do what she wanted. When she was upset, she wasn't one to sit and cry in the corner – she wanted action and justice, and she wouldn't be Ginny Weasley if she didn't get it.

Ron trailed a finger across Hermione's face, sending a shiver down her spine, and making her step back. His finger came back with a line of blood across it. 'It's alright; I just wanted to stop the blood.'

Hermione smiled and turned away, before realising she was casting her eyes across the devastation of the Great Hall. Despite the war having only just ended, many of the remaining Order – or the Order's side, at least – was comforting and helping to heal wounds of the Dark wizards. These wizards weren't conscious. Of course, the death of their leader did little to prevent the force of the Dark wizards, but over a period of time, it would wear them, and their enthusiasm down. Having the Hogwarts house elves on their Order's side meant that, even as Hermione watched, food and medical supplies rose, seemingly out of window sills, to feed and heal the wounded.

Madame Pomfrey bustled around, aiding as many people as she could, looking out of place and positively gleaming among the wounded and bloodied. She was a little worse-for-wear – no doubt the battle had required her assistance as well, but she was considerably better than most others surrounding her.

The next few nights, after the chaos and madness of the Great Hall, the Burrow seemed relatively quiet.

The candles and lanterns flickered feebly – no-one dared use the lights in case it was too bright for someone else's eyes.

The Burrow held home to nine people at that time. Charlie had come in from Romania, and was helping his mother plan Fred's funeral. They'd already decided that they'd prolong it as long as possible, so Mrs. Weasley could repair Hogwarts, so George could re-open their shop, so they could attend the funerals of other deceased fighters. Bill and Fleur remained to watch over the house, and make sure it wasn't burnt to the ground while Molly busied herself with things other than Fred. Of course, without Fred, the house was almost 100% less likely to burn down. George remained in his room the entire time, mourning the loss of half his being and soul. Percy and Mr. Weasley kept running in and out of the house at odd times, both caught up in Ministry work, trying to restore peace to the frazzled wizarding world. As far as everyone could tell, they were doing their job well. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny wandered around the grounds, feeding chickens, de-gnoming and trying to stay out of everyone else's way as much as humanely possible.

Occasionally, the quartet – no longer a trio – accompanied Mrs. Weasley to Hogwarts and helped with 'Operation Repair Hogwarts'.

Luna Lovegood remained at Hogwarts, teaching people about grief, with Neville close by her side. Ron commented once that the pair made a dynamic duo, and possibly a couple. The others had scoffed; Luna wouldn't be attracted to Neville – he was a surprisingly normal man, and she was a very abnormal, unusual girl – and it was unfeasible.

Hermione often dreaded visiting Hogwarts – there was something about the community, family feeling that made her realise that she no longer had a family. She'd sent them away, she'd destroyed their lives and made them remove themselves from everything familiar to them – even if it was for their own safety.

But tonight was different from all those other nights. For starters, both Percy and Mr. Weasley were present at the table, which was an occasion so rare that it should be commemorated somehow.

George had come down for dinner, commemorating their presence with his own.

Harry had finally decided tat he wasn't going to hurt anyone by being there with them, and Ginny was beaming, her eyes flashing to his so frequently that their gazes hardly left each other.

Ron was seated beside Hermione, head obviously full of trying to keep Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes alive. George had inadvertently given Ron the task of keeping his joke shop up and running – telling Percy and his father that they had their hands full enough without his business getting in the way. He'd then proceeded to tell Mrs. Weasley that he'd pay more attention to what he was doing once Fred's funeral had taken place. But he sat in a stupor, not doing anything at all.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't seated yet, but bustling around, caught up in the task of feeding her ever-growing army of children and mouths to feed.

Bill and Fleur were muttering to each other, murmuring sweet nonsense to each other in such a way that Mr. Weasley kept shooting them stern looks.

Though Percy was, for the first time in almost four years, eating with his family, he still looked miserable.

Hermione couldn't help but think that if Fred were there, Percy would be receiving jibe after jibe about running off and leaving their family, that the table would be united as one, laughing in unison, apart from the tight-lipped disapproval from Mrs. Weasley.

Charlie was trying to initiate a conversation with Mr. Weasley about dragons, but Mr. Weasley kept going off topic and talking about things that made Mrs. Weasley tremble and spill water from shaking pots.

Once she was seated, and all plates were filled, a silenced hush fell over the table. There was little chatter and even less movement as the whole table fed themselves.

Ginny sat a little straighter in her seat, 'Mum, I was talking to Luna today,' she began, attracting everyone's attention, 'and she said that Dennis Creevey said that Lavender Brown is okay.' Her eyes flicked to Ron's, and Ron's expression darkened. 'I just remember you asking about her the other day…' she trailed off a little, shaking her head when her mother put down her knife and fork.

Bill spoke up, 'But she's still changed, isn't she?' His fingers went, probably unconsciously, to the scar Fenrir Greyback gave him.

'I think so,' Ginny answered. 'But, being Luna, she wouldn't ask something like that. She only told me because Dennis happened to be walking past, and she thought it was strange that he'd told her that earlier.'

'Be quiet, Ginny.' It was Percy who spoke, and even Hermione heard the impatience in his voice.

Ginny rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively, telling Percy, without words, that he could talk whenever he wanted to.

But Percy didn't. He remained quiet. He kept eating his dinner in silence, though no-one else was eating. They were watching him with disbelieving eyes. He didn't look like he wanted to say anything.

One by one, they started to eat again. The dinner soon began to disappear, bit by bit, portion by portion. Only the Mrs. Weasley's were left; Molly and Fleur. Slower again, they finished their meal.

Hermione made sure her knife and fork were parallel, in line with each other, before lifting her wand and waving it, the plates all rising and stacking themselves and floating to the sink. Molly whisked the cutlery away and made the dishes start to wash and dry themselves with two seemingly simple waves of her wand.

Fleur moved her wand in a different way and the table was suddenly spotless, a new tablecloth, glasses joining the plates and cutlery being washed by invisible hands.

Ron tugged Hermione and Harry into the lounge room, with Ginny tagging along behind. He didn't seem to mind, and didn't even try to talk.

Mr. Weasley entered the room and sat in his designated arm chair, closing his eyes. He sighed and shifted into a more comfortable position. He opened one eye and looked at them looking at him, and then opened the other. 'You kids looked scared silly,' he said, shaking his head. 'You're like a different bunch of kids – not the rowdy, happy bunch you used to be.'

'Life's been hard, Dad,' Ginny said going over and giving her father a quick hug. She pulled away and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

'I know, flower, but it shouldn't have been.' He shook his head and reclosed his eyes. 'Talk. Do something louder than just looking at me.'

Ginny skipped back over to them. 'I remember when Ron was five,' she started, clearly the conversation-starter of the family, 'and I was four. The twins were down at the village with Mum, buying groceries, I think. I don't really remember where everyone was, but I know Dad was in his shed fiddling with some Muggle invention – like he always was. And is, for any matter.' She took a breath and looked at Ron, her eyes sparkling mischievously, in precisely the way Fred's had. 'Ron made a dance routine and tried to teach it to me. I remember it went something like this…' Ginny started hopping and twirling around the room, beaming brighter every time she looked at Ron's face, growing more scarlet with each turn.

'Did not.' Ron muttered, more to Hermione than anyone else. He sidled closer to her, but she stepped up to Ginny.

'If I know anything about Ron,' Hermione said, taking one of Ginny's hands, 'It would have been more like this,' And they danced, improvising ridiculous moves that actually made Ron blush. They shimmied in time with one another and burst out laughing.

'I think I remember less of the dance than I originally thought,' Ginny mused, 'because it wouldn't be Ron without some shimmies.' She dropped Hermione's hand and twirled right into an empty chair, long hair trailing her in a bright flame, seeming to flicker like real fire.

Harry turned to Ron, a smile finally breaking his pallid face. 'Or some leaps. He likes to leap.' He grinned.

Ron struck out at Harry. 'Shut up, mate.' He tried to look darkly, but he was failing. Ginny crossed her legs, Indian style, on the chair, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with one hand. 'Or I'll tell them what you muttered in your sleep in fifth year.'

Hermione sat on the arm of the chair Harry was seated in. 'That's not right, Ronald.' She scolded, putting one hand on Harry's shoulder. 'They were really rough times.'

Mr. Weasley, who until then, had been forgotten, opened his eyes and stared at them openly. He didn't say anything, but the disapproval in his eyes was crystal clear.

Ron observed their suddenly stormy faces with a bemused expression. 'I was talking about Cho Chang?'

Ginny's face was the only one that didn't fall into a smile. 'Shut up, Ronald,' she snapped. Her voice wasn't overtly icy, but her eyes pierced through Ron like glass.

Hermione watched Ginny's innocent face become taken over by green jealousy. Hermione remembered how many times she had reassured Ginny that Harry's thing with Cho was only a thing – there was no real chemistry between them.

She remembered how hard Ginny had tried to be normal and strong in front of Harry – and how easy it became when Ginny realised that what she and Harry had was natural, with or without a relationship.

'Sorry,' Ron muttered. 'But I thought I was funny.'

Ginny mimicked him, wagging her hair around and putting on a high-pitched voice.

Ron gave her a very rude gesture, sending Mr. Weasley onto his feet. 'Ron!' He exclaimed, sounding a lot more awake than he looked. 'Apologize to your sister.'

Hermione watched Ron's shoulders slump, thinking about how nice it would be to have siblings, even if they fought as incessantly as Ron and Ginny.

'She started it,' Ron whined, slumping forward like a five-year-old.

'How old do you think you are, Ronald?' Mr. Weasley asked, hands on his hips. He was nowhere near as impressive as Mrs. Weasley in the same stance. None of the 'Dad Power' her own father possessed.

Ron sighed and sat up. 'I'm sorry you're a jerk, Ginny.'

Ginny sat up straighter, growing haughty. Hermione could hear Ginny's retaliation before she said it. 'That's nice, coming from you.'

Hermione stood up. 'Harry, have you seen my jumper anywhere?' She asked loudly, drawing attention to her and away from the bickering pair. She smiled. She and Ron used to be the bickering pair. She wondered how much they'd fight now.

Harry looked up at her, looking very much as though he'd come out of a deep trail of thought – one that meant he'd been paying no attention to the Weasley's. 'What? Oh, er, in Ron's room?' He guessed. He pushed his glasses up his nose and turned to Ron. He looked like he was about to say something, but he didn't.

Ginny stood up. 'It's in mine, Hermione. I'll come with you.' She gave Harry a meaningful look that no-one in the room seemed to be able to comprehend – not even Harry, and left.

Hermione trailed behind her, following loosely. The Burrow had changed so much since the first time she'd been there. It was no longer a quaint family home, but a large, empty place for people to sleep.

It was true that the house and it's owners were a lot older and a lot less reliant on their home, but it felt less homely. The clock on the wall had lost on hand, gained another. It had lost the hand with Fred on it, but gained a hand with Fleur. There was a faint outline of a forming hand, as though someone was about to be welcomed into Molly's family, someone else she could keep an eyes on and mother.

Hermione was quite surprised that Harry wasn't already on that clock. She knew Molly considered him a son – seeing as he had no blood-related family left, she'd given him hers. Having Molly as a mother and Ron as a brother always seemed pretty good to Hermione. But she supposed that now he and Ginny were involved – in ways Molly probably didn't know about, admittedly – that could possibly be his own hand.

Ginny leant over the railing of the stairs. She was halfway up to her room. 'Are you coming, or what?'

Hermione glanced up the rickety stairs. She wondered what would happen if an enlargement charm was placed on the house. 'I'm coming. Give me time, my brain's a little slow today,' In the past few days, so much had been crammed into her head – images and lives she'd never forget – that even the simplest of things took more concentration than normal. She saw it in the others as well, the clouds hanging in front of their eyes and their far-off gazes.

It was like shell-shock. Hermione really, for once, couldn't find another word for it. It wasn't exactly shell-shock, but it was the same symptoms. And with all the explosions and things, who's to know if there weren't Muggle shells during the Battle of Hogwarts?

Hermione shook her head, clearing away those clouds and thoughts, and climbed the stairs faster. She reached Ginny's oak door and opened it.

Ginny sat on her bed, facing the window. Her red hair fell over her back like a waterfall over rocks. She didn't turn at the sound of Hermione's entrance, though she obviously knew Hermione was there.

Hermione cleared her throat and envied Ginny's hair. It was as straight as a ruler, and as thin as thin could get. It looked sharp – it looked strong. It was the fire in Ginny.

Where as, all Hermione had on _her_ head was this frizzy, curly, thick mess that was, according to Ron, merely an extension of her brain. Hermione shook her head again, clearing her thoughts, bringing herself back to standing in Ginny's doorway.

'I didn't think my jumper was in here,' she said, looking around and finding Ginny's room spotless. She'd been practising household charms, Hermione secretly thought.

'_Accio Jumper_.' Ginny whispered, raising her wand. Hermione caught the jumper on it's way through. She'd noticed Ginny's voice, soft and weak, like she was about to cry.

Hermione pulled the jumper over her head and crawled onto the bed with Ginny.

'Are you sure he likes me, Hermione?' She whispered, looking up at Hermione with eyes so huge that Hermione had to lean back. Ginny was this close from breaking down – something she rarely ever did.

'Likes you? Ginny, were you listening to anything he said last year when he broke up with you? Didn't he say that Voldemort hurt the people he loved?' Hermione stroked Ginny's envying hair and sighed.

Ginny gave a small sigh, too, one of exasperation. 'He has a funny way of showing it. He's barely spoken a word to me since he got here.' Hermione remembered a similar conversation a few years ago – one that had ended up with Michael Corner and Dean Thomas trailing her like bugs to light.

'I know he loves you, you've just got to show him that you do, too.' Hermione put her arm around the girl who was the sister she'd never had. 'I know you're the strong one. The first girl in a family full of boys and what-not, but Harry… he's been alone. He needs you so much that he can barely talk. Show him that he _can_ talk to you. About anything.'

Ginny scratched at her face, apparently deep in thought. 'But I bet he never once thought of me while you were gone.' She smiled grimly, as though she expected nothing more.

Hermione actually laughed out loud, even though it wasn't funny. 'Then I win the bet. For the first month – the entire thirty one days, all he could think about was your kiss, honey.' Hermione tapped her on the shoulder in a mock punch. 'Must've been a good one,'

They grinned at each other while Ginny nodded. 'Oh, I gave him all I had.' She winked. 'If Ron hadn't walked in… I could've got more out of him, too.' She giggled, a very un-Ginny-like sound. Neither of them were ones for giggling.

'He thought about you,' Hermione said, turning serious once more. 'I could see you playing on his mind as clearly as daylight. He was transparent. Even Ron saw it. Harry listened for your name, every day on Potterwatch – when Ron came back with that, but before that, you haunted him with almost every waking moment, ever thought, every glance at Ron's red hair. And you know how agitated he gets when he's like that – missing loved ones and whatnot.' Hermione sighed and took Ginny's hand in her own. 'Stop pushing him away, and he'll learn to stop pushing you away.' She grimaced. 'Took Ron and I seven whole years to convince him that we weren't going to go running away when Voldemort showed up.'

Ginny's breath hitched when Hermione said his name, but Hermione barely noticed. Outside, the stars had come out. It was the first night since the Battle that the clouds hadn't hung thick and low in the night sky.

'Look, Ginny,' Hermione breathed, pulling her towards the window and dropping her hand. 'The stars.'

Ginny scratched her cheek and cleared her throat, drawing Hermione's attention. 'I haven't been able to see stars romantically since Astronomy class. I just think of suns and names and planets and people and more complicated orbits and…' she sighed. 'I haven't been able to see it's beauty because I was missing something. Love.' Ginny blushed beet red, and Hermione stepped down from the window, letting Ginny push her way to the window. 'But I think I see it. The whole fuss.' Ginny smiled sheepishly and gestured to her door. 'It's taking us an awful long time to get one jumper.'

Hermione shrugged. 'They'll live.'

Ginny was already at the door. Hermione hadn't even seen her move. 'Let's go,' Ginny suggested, moving away before Hermione could react.

Shooting one reproachful look at the stars outside Ginny's closed window, Hermione followed her best-girl-friend through the door and down the stairs.

Hermione trailed her hand against the banister, remembering the summer she'd spent in this exact house. Again, she was a lot slower than Ginny, and by the time she reached the lounge room, it was fully occupied.

George sat in the darkest corner, hugging himself to stay warm and small – unnoticeable, though he was the first thing Hermione saw. She smiled at him, not caring if he wasn't even looking at her to receive it. Mrs. Weasley was seated next to Ron, knitting. Ron stared into the fire while having a conversation with Charlie. It was obviously a half-hearted conversation, because Ron's eyes never once left the flames.

Mr. Weasley had given up his seat to Bill, who was letting Fleur sit in his lap and give him gooey eyes. On occasion their lips briefly touched, which never failed to make Hermione blush and look away.

Ginny was sitting on the floor by Harry's legs, talking to her father in an animated manner. Her hands gestured wildly, and Harry watched with the faintest of smiles on his face.

Percy sat reading a book Hermione had read three years ago. She wondered if it was the same copy, and then immediately pushed the thought away. Of course not, she'd loaned hers from the Hogwarts library.

Ron looked up at her then, and patted the seat next to him, obviously wanted her to sit next to him.

Hermione felt that things were moving too quickly for her. He was too forward. She needed to show him the line, and to tell him who was in charge at moving that line: her.

So instead of sitting by her boyfriend, Hermione joined her best friend on the floor, below her best friend in the chair.

Ginny had shifted slightly, leaning directly on Harry's legs, practically sitting on his feet. Hermione sat to her left, closer to the fire. Her left side warmed up quickly, sending a healthy glow to her cheeks.

It was a perfect picture of family.

Hermione bit her lip and tried not to think of Monica and Walter – the alias's she'd given her parents.

Mrs. Weasley struck up a conversation with Harry then, asking him how he'd come up with the impressive speech for Voldemort.

It was the most invasive thing Mrs. Weasley had asked anyone since the Battle.

The whole room sucked in a breath. Even George. Percy put his book down; Ron looked away from the fire. Bill and Fleur's lips parted; Ginny's hands stilled. They all looked up at Harry, except for Ginny and Hermione.

The girls firmly kept their eyes from Harry, desperate not to make eye contact – mainly because they would have to crane their necks impossibly to see the underside of his chin, let alone his eyes.

Ginny flinched a little, and Hermione wondered why. Looking around the room, everyone was fixated on Harry. Ginny seemed fixated on the carpet, eyes shimmering in the firelight.

Harry finally took a breath. 'I, well, I thought that if I was going to die, I'd better make my last speech my most impressive.'

Mrs. Weasley's hand fluttered to her chest and she gasped a little at the thought of Harry dying.

Hermione craned her neck to look at Harry, who was, thankfully, looking at his feet. 'Not to mention,' Hermione added for him, 'That Voldemort did the same thing to him each year, that the last thing _he _should hear was Harry's victory.'

Ron cleared his throat. 'Because we figured a lot about him out.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'I did. Dumbledore did.' He said Dumbledore as though the old Headmaster was the only reason he knew those things.

'But Dumbledore knew him the longest, and,' Hermione took a breath, willing Harry's eyes to meet hers, though they didn't. 'It wasn't Dumbledore who figured out the wands, was it?'

Harry scratched his head. 'I bet he planned for it to be like it was, though. I know he did. He made sure it was Snape, remember?'

Hermione gave a half-hearted grin. 'But it was Malfoy, wasn't it?'

Harry shrugged.

Mr. Weasley shifted in his chair, drawing some of the attention from Harry. 'What happened to the Elder Wand?' He asked, his voice almost too quiet for the room.

Harry shot Hermione a fleeting look before answering. Hermione wondered what he'd say – after all, he'd hidden the Wand away again, hoping to break its power. 'It's gone,' was all he said.

Hermione wanted to add to the explanation, make more sense of it, but firmly held her mouth closed.

'Gone?' Percy asked, voice straining in the dead quiet of the room.

'Gone,' Harry confirmed. 'And may its power die out.'

Ron shook his head. 'I still think you're nuts.'

'The wand…' Harry murmured, more to Hermione than anyone else, 'all of it, was just ridiculous. You understand, don't you?'

Hermione nodded. 'Completely. It's just a stick, with an alliance to whoever Disarms someone else.'

Harry tilted his head slightly. _More or less_, he gestured.

'Didn't you say, Harry,' Ginny began, speaking up for the first time, 'something about Snape? And something about…?' Ginny trailed off, cheeks going almost as bright as her hair, as the fire she was beside.

Harry's leg twitched, probably in an attempt to touch Ginny in front of her parents. Hermione held her breath, wishing with all her might that Ginny would reach up and hug Harry. Neither of them moved much, their gazes finally meeting.

'Snape? The Professor who pretended to hate me? The Death Eater spy?' Harry asked, voice low and rough.

Hermione looked at the floor, suddenly unprepared to hear Harry talk about this.

Harry didn't push it, though. He sighed and looked over at Ron, who was watching with an almost-frown on his face.

Hermione heard Ginny move, and when she looked up, the red-haired witch had moved slightly, leaning against the couch, resting her head against Harry's knees.

'The sword,' Ginny said, almost suddenly. 'How'd _you_ get it, when I stole it?'

Hermione straightened up then, remembering the reappearance of Ron, how just looking at him had taken her breath away, how angry she'd been. How sorry and sheepish he'd looked when asking for her forgiveness. How her heart had been stolen away, leaving her breathless when he'd spoken of the light, the one bringing him back to her. How she'd steeled herself and reminded herself of how she'd felt when he left. How he'd abandoned her. How he'd handed her a destroyed Horcrux, and that night, how he'd muttered her name in his sleep.

She took a breath and looked at Ron, who was giving her a strange look. Harry was already talking, apparently starting from the Ministry of Magic.

Ron suddenly interrupted. 'Dad, do you remember that day -?'

He was cut off by Mr. Weasley. 'I remember the day Harry Potter broke into the Ministry, Ron.' Then he sighed. 'But how?'

Hermione grinned. 'We spent weeks wondering that ourselves.' She shifted in her seat. 'We drew maps, maps and more maps. We sat outside the Ministry for weeks, overhearing conversations, trying to figure out how to get in.'

'…but why?' It was Bill, and he'd moved Fleur from him slightly. She was on the arm of the chair.

'Does everyone remember the silver locket from Grimmauld Place?' Ron asked them all.

Of course Bill, Fleur and Charlie didn't. The others nodded – even Ron's parents. 'Horcrux.'

'What is that?' Ginny asked suddenly.

'Part of your soul,' Harry answered, 'hidden in something. You have to kill to split your soul. Voldemort had seven, or at least, he thought he did. He had the Lost Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff Goblet, Salazar Slytherin's Locket – which was technically his, anyway, The Peverell ring, still technically his, that damnable snake, Nagini, and that diary, Ginny.' They both blushed upon mentioning the diary. 'And me.'

'You?' Ginny's voice may have only been a whisper, but it was louder than anything else in the room.

The fire popped suddenly, and tears leaked from Ginny's eyes.

'We'll get there.' Harry said, 'In time. But that heavy locket was a Horcrux. When Sirius… when he…' Harry dropped his head into his hands.

'When Sirius died, Mundungus stole everything, and sold it all.' Hermione said not looking at Harry. She knew his face would be pained and she couldn't continue if she knew he was in pain. She pretended he wouldn't be. 'Of course, he didn't have a permit. Then a Ministry witch came up to him and asked him for the permit. She took a fancy to the locket, and told him he'd get off if she could have to locket, no expenses.' Hermione cleared her throat. 'That's how Dolores Umbridge came to possess a Horcrux.'

Ginny hissed a breath out, George too. Harry looked up and grinned. 'I know, right?' he sounded about thirteen when he answered them, looking a little excited.

'We knew it was the locket because, during the first Battle of Hogwarts…' Ron paused for a second, and then continued. 'We… Dumbledore took Harry to hunt Horcruxes. They found this cave where Voldemort tortured people, way back when he was a kid and didn't know magic. They escaped with their lives – but only just, but the Horcrux was a fake. Inside, there was a note from R.A.B. Regulus Articulus Black. Sirius' brother.'

Ginny and Mr. Weasley drew in a breath, while Percy sat looking quite annoyed – probably because no-one liked the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.

Harry took over. 'I summoned Kreacher – you know, because he's mine now, and asked him about it. He told us where to locket was, so we hunted it down.' He closed his eyes.

Hermione jumped in for him. 'We stole Moody's last supply of Polyjuice Potion, and we transformed ourselves.

'We stunned Mafalda Hopkirk, and gave Reg Cattermole a Puking Pastille, and Albert Runcorn a Nosebleed Nougat.' Hermione couldn't help but sound pleased with her work.

'Reg and Runcorn?' Mr. Weasley said, kind of amazed, 'But I spoke to both of them that day!'

Harry nodded. 'It wasn't a threat, Mr. Weasley. I just wanted to know you were safe.'

Ron gave a kind of yelp then. 'I had no idea how to fix Yaxley's office!' He said loudly, and Mr. Weasley sniggered.

'An umbrella would have been sufficient for that…' He took a breath, as if against the cruel word he was sure to utter.

Hermione shifted a bit. 'In the end, we stole the Horcrux and escaped with Mary Cattermole. I think Ron had her convinced to leave the country, when Reg Cattermole, the real one, approached. We were screwed.' She coughed, 'pardon the expression. We had to run. We were at the Floo grates when Yaxley grabbed hold of me. I had already started to Apparate, but he was with us when we landed on the landing of Grimmauld Place. We had changed back to ourselves, already. So I grabbed Ron and Harry, shook Yaxley off, and Disapparated again. We ended up in the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup. I was just trying to figure out a place that wouldn't have much attention drawn to it, and that's what I ended up with.' She sighed, leaving out the part where Ron got Splinched.

'I got Splinched,' Ron said to his family, 'and Hermione had to heal me, as well as focus on putting protective charms around us. We used Perkins' old tent.'

Percy cleared his throat. 'Does any of this have a point?'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'We took it in turns to wear the Horcrux, figuring it was safest that way. We didn't want to lose a part of Voldemort's soul.'

Harry looked at up Ron, and Hermione felt her mouth drop open. Sure, the name wasn't taboo anymore, but Ron? Saying You-Know-Who's name? Ron actually said Voldemort? He hadn't flinched from it, either, or blinked against it.

Harry took his turn to speak, then. 'The Horcrux made us all moody – something to do with the Dark magic, I think. Explains a little of Umbridge's wickedness that we got to see, any way. But we all fought incessantly with each other, all tried to put the others down. We weren't very happy campers, and we didn't know how to destroy it.'

'Well,' Hermione interrupted, 'We did, but we didn't have the required materials to do so.'

'One fight led into another, and Ron left us.' Harry said, flicking his gaze to Bill and Fleur.

Mrs. Weasley tutted, and Harry grinned.

'But I had the Deluminator,' Ron continued, 'and eventually, it sent me back.'

Harry smirked, and Hermione remembered the 'orb of light' that touched Ron 'right in the heart'.

'I came to a hillside, which was totally empty. I blundered around for days in the snow, but couldn't find anyone. Eventually, I just flicked the Deluminator, again, and it sent me somewhere else. This time, while I was calling, I saw a Patronus. I thought it must've been Harry's – looked like a stag, but without the antlers – and followed it. I saw Harry right behind it, which only made me think that it was Harry's even more. I was a little while behind them.'

'It was a doe,' Harry muttered, to the benefit of anyone who could hear him. Hermione had heard the story before, obviously, but it was nice to hear that the story hadn't changed; that she hadn't been lied to. 'It led me to a frozen pool – it must have been the New Year by then – and, when I looked down, I saw the hilt of Godric Gryffindor's sword.' Harry smiled then, and Hermione heard Ginny draw in a breath.

'The Patronus disappeared. You have no idea how it felt – the sword could destroy Horcruxes, and we'd been looking for it, well, since we started.' Harry shifted in the chair, so he was more comfortable.

The rest of the family was rapt with their story, listening in so eagerly they were almost comical. Hermione supposed that for a real story – not some fairytale – theirs must have ticked all the right boxes. It had magic, love, betrayal, adventure, and even action.

'Wait.' Hermione said, 'We have to tell them about Godric's Hollow, first.'

Harry rolled his eyes, and Fleur spoke up. 'But eesn't Godric's 'Ollow very dangerous? For zee Undeesirable Number One, anyway?'

Hermione nodded. 'Very.' She sighed, then. 'But it was Harry's birthplace, the place where his parents died, where it all started, Dumbledore's childhood home, but most importantly, the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor. We thought it would be a good place to hide the sword.' Mrs. Weasley sniffled, then, as if it was the sad part of their fairytale.

Harry looked at Hermione then, not that she could see it very well without bending and twisting her head at decidedly odd angles. 'I just wanted to see my parents,' Harry said softly, earning a huge sob from Mrs. Weasley.

'So we ventured forth, without Ron. We took the last of the Polyjuice Potion, and became two Muggles – a husband and wife – from a village quite some way away. We went to the graveyard first, to find…' Hermione took a breath, 'Lily and James.'

'I put flowers on their graves,' Harry said vaguely, as though remembering.

Mrs. Weasley emitted another sob, and couldn't contain herself. She had to wipe her eyes with her knitting and physically hold a hand over her mouth to stop the loud sounds echoing around the room.

'Bathilda Bagshot came up to us,' Harry said, still in that vague, lost in memory voice. 'She knew who we were, and beckoned us to follow. We went to her house, and she asked me to go up the stairs. Hermione took her copy of Rita Skeeter's Dumbledore book. Bathilda spoke to me, and it took me a while to realise she was speaking in Parseltongue. By then, she already turned into Nagini. It was a fight to the death, and Nagini called to Voldemort. As he arrived, he got a glimpse of us, and we Disapparated.' Harry exhaled then, as though he'd been holding his breath.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. 'Harry's wand broke, and it couldn't be fixed.'

'But then we get back to the pool with the sword.' Harry said, drawing the wide-and-intrigued eyes to him. 'We needed this, since it wasn't at Godric's Hollow. I broke the glass, took my clothes off, and jumped in.'

'By this time, I reached the pool. I thought Harry was crazy; he hadn't even taken the Horcrux off! But then he didn't resurface, and I climbed in, grabbed the sword, and Harry, who was on the verge of passing out.' Cue Mrs. Weasley to yelp.

'So Ron was back,' Hermione summarized for them, 'and he killed the Horcrux.'

Mrs. Weasley made a loud sound, caught between approval and disapproval. She was proud that her son had done something so grown-up, but he was her baby boy, and he had put himself in danger to do so, Hermione thought. She tried to use Mrs. Weasley's perspective, but she couldn't quite understand.

'That's how we got the sword of Gryffindor.' Hermione finished, almost lamely.

Ginny sat up. 'What about after that? Then what happened? You can't leave us hanging!' Her eyes were glittering with the firelight, her hair seeming to reflect the fire.

'What was everyone else doing during that time?' Harry asked, clearly sick of speaking. He didn't like talking about his past with people, and Hermione knew it frustrated him to relive the mistakes he'd made – even if they'd changed the outcome for the better.

Ginny fell back against the chair and Harry's legs again. 'I was stuck at school for the most part, until Christmas. I'd told Mum how bad things were at Hogwarts – it was practically a mudblood torturing ground, so she kept me home. I felt positively ghastly about not being able to tell Neville or Luna, but there was nothing I could do. I spent my days cooped up inside, learning how to be a wife. I stayed by Mum's side, until I got a letter from Neville, saying how Luna had been captured. By then, I was almost sick with worry. I didn't know what had happened to anyone, and we hardly even heard from Bill and Fleur anymore. I started writing to Charlie, but he was too busy to reply. I tried to talk Mum into helping…' Ginny paused for a breath, eyes flicking to George, 'the joke shop,' she avoided Fred's name, 'but she wouldn't let me. And then news came of the Battle, and, at the time, I was so happy. My coin burnt, and I felt needed. But then I was stuck in the Room of Requirement, until…' she met Harry's eye, 'I left.'

George didn't say anything.

'I was working,' Charlie said simply, looking at Percy.

'I was working.' Percy repeated, as though it was an excuse not to visit his family, who was only minutes away. At least Charlie worked in a different _country_; so far away he might have lived in a different continent.

Bill cleared his throat. 'Fleur and I had work from Dumbledore, but we weren't able to do it often. Then Ron showed up for Christmas, and then…' he faltered. 'The rest.'

All eyes went back to Harry.

'We had to find the other Horcruxes.' Harry said simply. 'We knew Gryffindor's heirloom wasn't a Horcrux, and we knew that, now, Slytherin's wasn't. we'd already taken out the diary and the ring, but we knew there were more. We went hunting for them, even going to Voldemort's orphanage, but it was gone.'

'Like usual, one night we were fighting on where to go next.' Hermione said, prompting Harry. 'Someone said Voldemort's name – Ron hadn't yet told us it as taboo. Snatchers showed immediately. We had Scabior and Greyback in our gang. I shot a Stinging Hex at Harry, deforming his face. They tied us up and asked for our names. I said I was Penelope Clearwater, who I _knew_ was a Half-Blood. They believed me. But they knew who Ron was, and then they figured out who I was. They took us to Malfoy Manor, suspecting Harry.'

'Malfoy Manor?' Mr. Weasley said, bringing his silence to an end shortly.

They all nodded. 'They were about to let us go, I think,' Harry said, 'Because Draco said it wasn't me, but then Bellatrix saw the sword.'

'There's a fake in her vault. She thought we'd broken into her vault and stolen it. From her reaction, we guessed that there was another thing in the vault. Voldemort had placed the sword in her vault, and she was scared we'd stolen another Horcrux.' Ron said.

'They chucked Ron and I in a cellar,' Harry said, 'Where we met Luna, Ollivander, Dean and Griphook.' He shrugged. 'Well, Dean and Griphook were tied up with the Snatchers already, so technically, we didn't meet them in the cellar, but close enough. They sent for Griphook, and tortured him and Hermione. We could hear her screaming.'

Hermione shuddered, absentmindedly fingering the word Bellatrix had carved into her arm. 'She cut me. She bit me, she hit me, and she used the Unforgivable Curse on me. I didn't know what she wanted. She carved this into my arm.' Hermione lifted her sleeve, where the word "MUDBLOOD" had been carved shakily. 'She told me Greyback could have me,' Hermione whispered.

'I have this mirror,' Harry said, almost suddenly, 'that I used to use with Sirius. I'd look into it, maybe call his name, and he'd answer me. I kept seeing Dumbledore's eye in the mirror, and this time, when I did, I yelled out for help. Dobby appeared. He sent Luna, Ollivander and Dean to Shell Cottage, to Bill and Fleur. We didn't have time to explain why. Pettigrew came down the stairs and tried to attack us, but that hand Voldemort gave him turned and killed him instead.' Harry sighed. 'We made it to the top of the stairs and into the room Hermione was in. We took Griphook, grabbed all these wands off Draco, and Dobby appeared. He dropped the chandelier on Bellatrix, and she threw a knife. We Disapparated, Dobby leading the way. Dobby died just after, having taken the knife in his chest.'

There was a horrible intake of breath, shock of four different people – George, Ginny and the Weasley parents. They knew who Dobby was.

'The elf was a good one,' Fleur whispered. ''is grave lies just outside Shell Cottage,' she said, drawing attention to herself. She shook her hair a little, showing it off, and then all eyes were back on Harry.

'We were at Shell Cottage, and we knew we needed to get to Bellatrix's vault. We had a goblin. We were halfway there, already. It took us weeks to heal,' Harry said, barely drawing breath to tell the story. 'And to plan. We decided to use a hair Hermione found on herself – definitely Bellatrix's. Hermione found the tiniest bit of Polyjuice Potion and became Bellatrix. I used the Invisibility Cloak and took Griphook on my shoulders, and we transformed Ron's look. We made it into the vault section of Gringotts, and then through this waterfall that was called Thief's Downfall.'

'Your enchantments washed off,' Bill said, 'You were back to normal. They'd been tipped off, obviously.' He shook his head and leant forward.

'We made it into her vault,' Hermione said, for Harry, 'and we took the Horcrux. Griphook stole the sword and left us there.'

'This is the cool part,' Ron interrupted, 'We flew away on a dragon.'

'Best idea you've ever had, Hermione.' Harry said approvingly. 'Most action-film worthy.'

Hermione grinned, knowing that the Weasley's didn't know what an action-film was.

'Thanks, boys. Means a lot. I only transformed you into Crabbe and Goyle in your second year, found out what the Basilisk was, helped Harry with _all_ of the tasks, and various other things, but you liked riding a dragon. Beats me. It really does.'

'Oh come on, Hermione,' Charlie said, 'Riding a dragon _is_ pretty awesome.'

Hermione smiled. 'I would have preferred a trained dragon.' She admitted. 'Maybe I can come and visit you, Charlie.'

'Maybe, Hermione.'

'By then, Voldemort knew we were hunting Horcruxes. I had a dream that he checked each hiding-place for his precious Horcruxes. We knew he wanted the Elder Wand – you know, from the Tale of the Three Brothers.' Harry said, drawing them back into seriousness. 'I knew that there was still the snake, Voldemort himself, and then Voldemort worried about the Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. His thoughts told me that it was at Hogwarts.'

'To Hogwarts we went.' Ron said, hands in the air like he was cheering. 'We met Dumbledore's little brother on the way. The goat-cross-Hog's-Head-guy. He led us into Hogwarts, where Neville greeted us with a warm reception. He alerted all of Dumbledore's Army with their coins. Then we had to look for the tiara thing that had been lost of centuries.'

'I don't remember the order, but other's do. We were in the Great Hall, and Voldemort spoke to us. Pansy Parkinson told them to grab him and take him to Voldemort. The whole school defended Harry. Snape jumped out a window. McGonagall sent the Slytherins to the dungeons. The fight was on. I knew what I was looking for, then,' Harry said, 'Because Luna had shown me the statue of Ravenclaw wearing it.'

'And I knew where I'd seen it. The Battle was in full force, and I kicked everyone out of the Room of Requirement. When I hid my book last year, I put it in a cabinet, stuck a bust on top, and put some tiara on the bust, in case I needed it again. So I found that, and got the tiara. Ron and Hermione had killed the cup with a Basilisk fang – like I did with the diary in the Chamber of Secrets. They were with me, and we were about to leave, when Malfoy approached. They shot curses at us, and then Goyle started a fire. It was Fiendfyre, a very dangerous fire. We found brooms and flew out of there. I couldn't leave them there to die, even if they were Slytherins. We went back to save them, though Goyle slipped and fell into the fire. He was dead, and the Horcrux fell, killing that, too.

'Voldemort closed the Battle, asking for me. In the Shrieking Shack, under the Cloak, I watched him kill Snape. Once Voldemort left, I took the Cloak off. Snape begged me to take his tears, memories.

'I took them to Dumbledore's office,' Harry said into the dead silence of the room, 'and watched through the Pensive. His memories told of a dark, twisted love for my mother. How, when she died, Snape was distraught and turned to Dumbledore. He continued to be a Death Eater, collecting information for Dumbledore, gaining Voldemort's trust. He was protecting me, the whole time I was at Hogwarts.

'And then, Dumbledore told Snape that I was a Horcrux. I had to be killed, and by Voldemort. It was my connection with him.

'So I went to the forest, where Voldemort killed me. Narcissa Malfoy was sent to make sure I was dead. She asked if Draco was alive, only breathing into my ear, unheard by others, and I told her that he was. She said I was dead, and the celebration began. Hagrid carried me back to the gathering, and laid me on the floor. Neville pulled the sword from the hat – a worthy Gryffindor – and killed the snake. In the hubbub, I put the Cloak on and ran. The Battle recommenced, and I was fighting the urge to join in, to protect everyone. But I died for them, I used love. I protected you all. I died for you in the way that my mother died for me. You were safe. The only thing that made me almost throw the Cloak off was when Bellatrix attacked Ginny. But Mrs. Weasley took care of that.' The mother in question blushed. 'And so, had learnt all about Voldemort, all about Riddle, and I was able to take him down.

'The wand that he held, that he stole from Dumbledore's grave, was the Elder Wand. He knew that Snape killed Dumbledore, so he killed Snape, but like I said, I Disarmed Draco, and it was Draco who Disarmed Dumbledore. The Wand was mine. It wouldn't fight me.

'I used the Elder Wand to mend my own. My wand, _that chose me_, in Ollivander's shop, _where the wand chooses the wizard_, where it was _curious_, so very _curious_, because, it's _twin_, the _core brother_, _gave me my scar_.'

And Harry was finished. No-one said a single word. All was eerily silent. The fire popped and crackled, too loud for their ears. Fleur kept sniffing, with silvery tears running down her cheeks.

Mrs. Weasley was stunned, so stunned that the flow of tears in her eyes had stopped.

Hermione sat up a little straighter, her bottom numb and her shoulders sore. She locked eyes with Ron, and he didn't smile. She bit her bottom lip and read his slightly vacant expression. She could taste his kiss on her lips.

She'd been cold to him lately, and it wasn't his fault that their relationship kind of freaked her out. They'd only ever been friends. He'd never even been her best friend. Harry was her best friend, or maybe even Ginny. Not Ron.

But it wasn't his fault that her heart screamed for him.

'We all came too close to dying,' Hermione said, breaking the silence. She watched Ron's eyes grow wide as she spoke, almost directly to him.

'Gives you a little perspective,' George said, 'Live each day like it's your last.'

His brother, his twin, the one he'd been connected to all his life was gone. Gone, and never returning. Hermione couldn't imagine anything like it. She didn't want to. Losing Fred, who had, along with George, always kind of been a big brother to her, was enough to handle. She didn't need to lose anyone else. Especially not a twin.

Hermione felt her heart go out to George and realised how cruel she'd been to Ginny in the Great Hall, telling her so harshly that Fred wasn't coming back.

She couldn't help the tears that escaped her eyes.

There was conversation, but Hermione couldn't tell what they were saying. But Harry stood up, and she felt him move next to her. She looked up, and stood with him, letting him lead the way to Ron's room.

Ron followed her, and they made it to the second landing before Hermione realised that they were missing someone. 'I'll be back,' she told the boys, descending the stairs. She went back into the lounge room.

Ginny now sat where Harry had, in the chair.

Hermione cleared her throat. 'Ginny?' her voice was still too loud for her ears. 'Wanna come up with us?'

Ginny's face broke into a smile so bright that Hermione couldn't help but smile back. 'Really? Are you sure?' She'd never been up with them before, always kind of shunned by Ron.

'Really. You're one of us. You're not the annoying little sister – you're the best friend and the girlfriend. Okay, you are the annoying sister, but majority rules, right?' Hermione had just called Ginny her best friend and Harry's girlfriend in the same sentence. She wasn't sure of either of those two things.

Ginny pulled Hermione up the stairs, up more stairs, up more stairs, all the way to Ron's room. She threw the door open.

She let go of Hermione's hand and sprung to Harry, hugging him to her. They stood in embrace for so long that Hermione grew awkward.

She stood by Ron, and this time, took his hand first. Ron looked a little surprised, but didn't say anything. He watched Ginny hug Harry with a bemused expression on his face.

'I suppose they mean it,' Ron said quietly. 'He really did break it off with her because he loved her.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and leant into Ron's side. He pulled her so that they sat on his bed, Ginny and Harry _still_ locked in embrace. 'I told you, Ronald.'

Finally, Ginny spoke. Her voice was muffled by Harry's shoulder, and quite soft, but Hermione still heard her tell him that she'd come too close to losing him forever.

Harry's hands constricted on her back slightly. Hermione and Ron watched his eyes open. 'I'll never leave you, Ginny, ever.'

Hermione leant further into Ron and whispered in his ear, 'I _told_ her she just had to wait.'

'We've tough times coming up,' Ron said, loudly.

Harry and Ginny looked up then, splitting apart, as though remembering that they had company.

'It'll be hard to get back to normal.' Ron was being almost prophetic. They all watched him with wide eyes. 'What? It will.'

Harry grinned. 'Normal? What is that? I've never been normal.'

'Join the club,' Hermione said, jokingly.

Ginny waved her hand dismissively at Hermione. 'You've never been normal? Trying being the only girl out of five older brothers. I used to think I'd grow up a lesbian – just because I'd detest boys so much, and it would be drilled into me to look at a woman that way.'

Ron stifled a laugh. 'Don't worry, Harry's a boy.'

'Duh.' Though they were teasing each other again, this time they did it with a smile on their faces.

'Now, _this_,' Hermione said, motioning to their faces. 'Isn't normal.'


End file.
